


captain is more of an arbitrary title, isn't it?

by moorlin



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Camping, M/M, gran can't tell the difference between 'anxiety' and 'having a crush', stupid sexy siegfried?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moorlin/pseuds/moorlin
Summary: in the presence of a dragon, a wolf might as well be a rabbit





	1. leather

**Author's Note:**

> i... went into the pixiv mines... and got stuck in the gran/siegfried tag.... and now i am here. gomen

“Gran.” calls the knight, and even though his tone is soft, it sends a chill down Gran’s spine, ice trickling down the veins of his arms as he lowers his sword and turns to where Siegfried was inspecting the dragon for impurities. “Come here.”

 

It must be the adrenaline, Gran thinks, stepping forward and going to Siegfried’s side, feet leaden and throat tightening. The ice doesn’t defrost from his veins even when Siegfried smiles at him, gesturing. They’re at the head of the beast, its head alone almost as large as Gran himself, eyes still open and clouded with death.

 

“Here…” the older man says, leaning down, hooking his fingers around the lower jaw of the dragon and heaving it, pushing and yanking until he’s managed to maneuver it so that the soft white underside of its neck is revealed, untouched by the blood that had sprayed from the deep wounds in its gut. “See this? Touch it.”

 

Gran hesitates, Siegfried notices.

 

The knight takes the captain’s hand into his own without regard, tugging him ( _yanking_ him) forward, bringing his fingers to the dragon’s neck. The spike of anxiety comes and goes before Gran can even process it, his fingers trailing over the soft, leathery skin of the dragon. “Why do dragons even _have_ soft scales?” he finds himself asking, his fingers trailing down the dragon’s jaw, following the scales until they begin to shift into the harder plate that Gran knows all too well.

 

Siegfried laughs gently, reaching over and bringing Gran’s hand back to the softer scales, eyes narrow. “Who knows. I suppose even beasts need soft spots.” he says, his fingers lingering against Gran’s hand before reaching up to shift the dragon’s head again, his free hand tugging out a dagger from his belt. “But- it’s the best part of the dragon. Malleable. Thin. Good for gloves. I’ll make you some with this.”

 

Gran’s chest throbs for a moment before he steps back, swallowing. “You need this leather for yourself don’t you? You can keep-”

 

“You helped kill this dragon as much as I did, you know.” Siegfried interrupts, and Gran feels like he’s being scolded. “Here. I’ll show you how to skin it.”

 

Gran’s stomach twists.

 

\--------

 

Gran’s hands tremble slightly as he brings the knife to the soft flesh attached to the hide, and he didn’t understand why; it wasn’t as if he didn’t kill monsters all the time, but Siegfried’s eyes on him make his ears buzz and he’s not sure what to do about it. He starts to scrape, using the edge of the blade to gently tug at the flesh and peeling it off the hide, his tongue sticking out a little as he tries to focus and ignore Siegfried’s hovering. He can’t ignore it for too long, however, when the man leans over him and brings his arms around, holding Gran’s hands in place. “Easy,” he says, his voice feeling far closer to Gran’s ear than it needed to be. “It’s a dragon skin, yes, but it’s still delicate. You’ll cut a hole through it if you keep this up. Here.”

 

And suddenly Gran’s hands are being guided, coarse and calloused fingers wrapping around his own and directing his knifework, scraping flesh from hide and carving out around the bone of the dragon’s jaw, much faster than Gran would have by himself.

 

It feels a torturous five minutes before Siegfried seems satisfied, gently releasing his grip from Gran’s fingers and bringing the knife with him, Gran not even realizing he’d let go to begin with. “See? It’s not as hard as it seems. Percival used to complain about skinning things, it’s nice to have someone who will listen to me about it, haha.” Siegfried hums, and somehow, that doesn’t make Gran feel any better. The anxiety that had been lingering ever since the kill was still buzzing through him, even as Siegfried turns his attention to the beast again.

 

Another stagnant few moments pass, Gran shuffling on his feet awkwardly as Siegfried handles butchering the rest of the dragon’s parts- the meat on the belly and sides were too far damaged in the battle, but the leanest parts, the legs and the neck, were still in tact. Siegfried gives Gran the duty of cleaning up one of the legs, handing him the knife that he’d used prior, now covered in more blood than Gran remembered. “Just cut around the bone and try to trim off the tendons. Don’t worry if you mess up a few times. There’s enough for both of us.”

 

He does his job, of course- he’s used to helping out with his crewmates during stakeouts and missions, but he didn’t appreciate Siegfried treating him like a child. Just because he wasn’t used to _skinning dragons_ didn’t mean he had to be manhandled by the knight, and it certainly wasn’t helping him feel any more like the man’s _captain_ rather than his ward. He lets out a small huff as he starts to grip at the revealed bone of the dragon’s leg, slicing along the grain and trying his best to clean it so they’ll be able to have a decent dinner tonight. He takes a moment to look over to Siegfried, who, of course, is already done with his leg, and possibly done with what looked like a ring of meat that he had taken from the dragon’s neck. _Stupid talented Siegfried,_ Gran thinks, not even realizing that Siegfried had noticed him staring, giving Gran a small blood-soaked wave, causing the captain to jump slightly, heat creeping up his neck.

 

And, of course, that means Gran’s not paying attention when the knife slips in his hand, and the flash of pain that cuts across his finger makes him hiss. Siegfried is at his side in an instant, pulling his hand away from the meat and prying Gran’s hand open, checking. “It’s not bad,” the older man says, squeezing the cut slightly. Gran winces, his face contorting into a grimace as Siegfried wipes away the blood. “Sorry,” the man murmurs, and Gran watches as he leans in, too close, his lips wrapping around two of Gran’s fingers, tongue coming up to lick away the blood that he’d just drawn out.

 

The anxiety building in his skull feels like it’s begun to leak out of his ears.

 

Siegfried peers at Gran for a split second, fingers still in his mouth, before pulling them out, running a thumb over them and smoothing them. ( _Why_? Gran doesn’t. Can’t. Ask.) “Better?” Siegfried asks, and Gran can’t really give him a straight answer, murmuring a small ‘yeah’ as he brings his hand back down, averting his eyes, feeling the older man’s own still lingering on him, boring into him like a drill.

 

Siegfried hovers for a moment before he mumbles a small ‘alright,’ and moves back to his own pile of meat, the silence between them settling into something between ‘normal’ and ‘uncomfortable.’ Both of them work for another half an hour or so, before Siegfried makes a small noise, using his forearm to wipe sweat from his brow. “This should be enough. We can pack the rest in salt and bring it back for Lowain after we get back.” Gran nods, his jaw still set, his hand still feeling a little numb, the anxiety that had been plaguing him beginning to secede.

 

Camp is something Gran is much better at setting up. Siegfried gathers up the meat while Gran gathers his flint and starter, quickly lighting a small blaze between the pair of them, Gran somehow feeling comforted with the new boundary, as superficial as it was.

 

Gran’s typing today was earth- synchronizing with Siegfried had been the priority, but it didn’t help keep him warm once the night came, a bitter chill surrounding them, barely staved off by the fire. “Do you want some more stew?” Siegfried asks, and Gran finds himself jerking his head up to look at him, not realizing how focused he’d been on the flames. He nods slightly, and Siegfried takes the bowl from his hands.

 

He doesn’t really _mean_ to stare at Siegfried, but there’s something… eerie? Beautiful? Terrifying, maybe. About the way that the fire frames the man as he leans down to stir and scoop more of the stew from the pot, looking more like a shadow than a man. His chest throbs. He manages to avert his eyes before Siegfried turns back to him, bringing his bowl over and handing it out to Gran, who takes it before the man moves next to him, falling back ungracefully to the ground with a small groan, sitting next to him.

 

The silence continues.

 

Siegfried doesn’t eat- rather, he ate a few chunks of meat that Gran had a sneaking suspicion were on the stronger side of ‘raw,’ and instead sat down with him, watching the fire, and sometimes, watching Gran. Gran tries to pretend he isn’t, but even without looking at him, he knows Siegfried’s piercing gaze when he feels it, trying very hard not to return it, to get trapped in those eyes that felt unnatural for a human, amber making way to slit pupils, more akin to a dragon’s.

 

“Should I re-stoke the fire or are you going to sleep soon?” Siegfried asks, bringing Gran once more out of his thought induced stupor. The bowl in his hands is empty, and the fire in front of them was beginning to dim.

 

“Oh. Uh…” He thinks. He wasn’t really tired, but the air around them felt so stiff, he didn’t really want to stay up any longer to try to think of more conversation. “I’ll just… sleep in a bit, I think. You should too. Vane said you don’t sleep enough,” he chides- and he’s instantly silenced by the sound of Siegfried’s laugh, watching as the man runs a hand through his hair.

 

“Mmm. He’s not wrong.” Gran’s brows furrow- but he knows nothing he can say will get Siegfried to elaborate, so instead he stands, leaving his bowl next to the fire and dragging a small log atop of the flames; that’d be enough for the night, he thinks.

 

When he backs up, it’s into Siegfried, who of _course_ managed to get to his feet without Gran noticing, one of his hands touching Gran’s shoulder gently. “We only have one blanket- you should take it. I’m used to the cold.” Gran’s face darkens, furrowing his brow- and before he knows he’s doing it, he’s convincing Siegfried that they can just, share, right?

  


Right?

 

\----------------

 

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t shared bedding with one of his crewmates before- hell, some of them were insistent on it, but.

 

But.

 

Siegfried’s turned, his back against Gran’s own, the fur blanket that Gran had packed barely covering them both, forcing Gran to scoot closer to the man, ensuring he managed to get as much blanket as possible. The fact that it was so bitingly cold just barely masked the heat that was creeping up Gran’s neck and spine every time Siegfried shifted even slightly, sending goosebumps up his arms, keeping himself curled up as much as possible. This was too much. The discomfort that he’d been feeling earlier was easily eclipsed by this, finding it impossible to doze, let alone get comfortable enough to _try._

 

This sucked.

 

Gran isn’t sure how much time passes before he feels Siegfried roll over, not even noticing when his hair drapes itself over Gran’s head. “Siegfried-” Gran splutters, reaching up to brush the hair from his face-

 

And then he freezes, feeling Siegfried’s large, bearish hand come to rest against his hip, and Gran’s entire body feels like it’s been dunked in ice. “Mmmn. Sorry.” the man mumbles, obviously half asleep, squeezing Gran’s hip and letting his nose nestle up against the back of Gran’s head, letting out a sleepy exhale.

 

His breath against the back of Gran’s neck sends a full body shiver through the captain, and his mouth goes dry- just, wake him up, Gran. He doesn’t know what he’s doing- he doesn’t…

 

Siegfried’s fingers press against Gran’s hip again, and Gran’s body does something he doesn’t anticipate, instinctively pressing himself back against Siegfried, against his touch. Why? Why? Why. Why is this happening. His heart is throbbing, his chest is tight, and he feels _small,_ for the first time in a long time, and Siegfried’s been nothing but kind to him but he’s _terrifying,_ the feeling of his large hand against him, so easily able to snap him like he snapped the dragon’s bones-

 

It was… exciting.

 

Nausea creeps through him at the realization, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Siegfried-” he tries again, mumbling quietly, shifting enough that he can turn, see the man’s face, see-

 

See his eyes, glowing gold in the darkness, staring directly at Gran.

 

(His body does something he _really_ doesn’t anticipate, now, his thighs pressing together slightly as he squirms. Not now. Why now? Astrals above.)

 

“Gran…” Siegfried murmurs, more of a growl than anything, and Gran feels frozen- a deer staring down its hunter, knowing there’s no escape as Siegfried’s hand slides over Gran’s hip, inching closer to the newly realized source of Gran’s discomfort.

 

There’s a touch- hesitation, between the both of them, Gran’s heart racing in his chest before he gives the smallest of nods, turning away, as if not looking at Siegfried would make this less real.

 

It doesn’t work.

 

Siegfried’s hand is so much larger than it felt on his hip, slipping down the front of Gran’s slacks and deftly palming up against him, the sensation of calloused fingers pressing against his erection making his mind feel like he just got slapped with paralysis. He forgets to breathe for a moment, only realizing when Siegfried gives his cock a tentative stroke- he inhales, sharp, unsure, but the man doesn’t stop. This is actually happening now, he thinks, vaguely registering Siegfried beginning to lean over him, his pace steady; he felt cramped, he felt pinned, and here he was, growing harder in Siegfried’s hand, _because_ he felt trapped.

 

All his thoughts leave his head when he feels Siegfried’s thumb slip up and over the tip of his cock, pulling a small groan out of Gran, his toes curling- he doesn’t notice the small smirk that’s hidden behind Gran’s head, Siegfried’s nose still nestled up against the captain’s hair.

 

Siegfried was definitely better at this than Gran was- to be fair, Gran’s only experience was with himself; somehow, Siegfried knew every way to elicit a noise from Gran, squeezing and palming at his cock at intervals that Gran had never even thought of, easing up when Gran’s hips began to jerk, starved for more friction. “Siegfried-” he allows himself to groan, his hips arching up to meet Siegfried’s slow strokes, agonizingly slow, and he knows he’s doing it on purpose, letting out a small whine when his groan is met with a squeeze.

 

“Just relax,” Siegfried whispers into Gran’s hair, and the man is _teasing_ him and Gran knows it, but the energy building inside of him is winning over his ego, his hips jerking and twitching with each stroke of his cock.

 

At some point, (Gran doesn’t know how time works anymore, he realizes,) Siegfried starts to actually work his cock. Rough strokes, in time with Gran’s instinctive hip pumps, it’s all Gran can do to not let out a wet cry when he cums, a sharp gasp working itself out of him, inhaling and exhaling in time with the pulses of orgasm that wash over him. He can feel Siegfried’s hand pressing against him still, and he’s pretty sure he got cum all over it, but his head is throbbing now, trying to bring himself back down to reality, to, to the reality that was Siegfried hovering over him with his hand wrapped around his softening dick.

 

After what felt like hours, Siegfried finally brings his hand up from Gran’s pants. “Better?” he asks quietly, a cruel tease of his earlier concerns over Gran, but before Gran can even get a word in edgewise, Siegfried licks a languid line up the side of his own hand, catching the cum that had been dripping down towards his arm. Something in Gran’s chest throbs again as he averts his eyes, leaning back over and stealing the majority of the blanket, wrapping himself up even though he felt less than clean now.

 

He doesn’t say anything when Siegfried presses himself up against Gran regardless of his lack of blanket, and he _definitely_ doesn’t say anything when he feels Siegfried’s lips graze the back of his neck, just enough that Gran’s not sure if he dreamed it, falling asleep soon after.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to get the gunk out of my system pls pretend that u just got a drop of my own version of faasan's dark residue


	2. buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so they're just... not gonna talk about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY THOUGHT I WAS DONE AND THEN I THOUGHT ABOUT BLOWJOBS FOR LIKE 2 SECONDS and now i am ruined i stayed up until like 5 am writing this. i did that. i really did that

The tension that had been plaguing him all night hadn’t left by the morning.

 

Gran finds himself shuffling awkwardly around the encampment as the pair of them silently pack up, Gran busying himself with tying up the rest of the cooking supplies as Siegfried finishes packing the leftover meat in salt.

 

He’s finally satisfied, gripping the arm of his pack before stepping back- and Siegfried has already managed to sneak his way behind Gran, again, as if last night wasn’t enough of a heart attack. “Anything I can do?” Siegfried asks, while Gran tries to recover from his heart palpitations.

 

“Uh-” he starts, turning to look at Siegfried. That’s a mistake, he realizes quickly, his ears starting to burn, jaw setting. “No, it’s alright. Uh… let’s just get going. Town should only be a few hours walk north.”

 

Siegfried nods, but he doesn’t move, watching Gran for a moment before reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “Alright. If you need anything let me know. Last night doesn’t need to be an isolated thing.” he says, and-

 

Gran’s ears are ringing before Siegfried even walks off, leaving the captain standing there in a cold sweat. So they weren’t going to just pretend it never happened, then. Okay. Alright. 

 

Okay.

 

He picks up his pack and swings it over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as Siegfried kicks dirt into the charred remains of the campfire before they head out.

 

\------------------------   
  


It’s late when they finally make it to the inn. Time seemed to pass so much slower when you walked in silence, only broken occasionally when Siegfried would suddenly shift to being on guard- only to find out ‘that noise’ was a deer, or a fox, scampering past them.

 

Gran quickly makes his way to the tavern of the inn where Sierokarte is, as always, busy as a bee. Gran shuffles on his feet as he waits for a break in the madness of customers and provisioners. It’s only twenty minutes and several awkward glances at Siegfried at his side later that he manages to get a moment with Siero, who in usual fashion leaves Gran with a mountain of paperwork after handing over their packs of meat. “I forgot to give you these after your last supply run!” she claims, and Gran gives her a weary smile as another customer pushes their way in before he can say goodbye- which is fine, because his mind is still on other things.

 

‘Other things’ have vanished from sight, he realizes, peering around the tavern for Siegfried. “Gran,” a voice says behind him, and he nearly jumps; he should have expected a sneak attack. “I put in a payment for two rooms on the third floor, is that alright?” 

 

Gran really wishes his stomach didn’t drop a little at ‘two rooms,’ even though he was a little relieved to have some space; he nods, shifting on his feet and trying to organize the paperwork into a more manageable pile in his arms. “That’s fine. Do you have the keys? I gotta start on this before we head back to the Grandcypher,” he says, wiggling his fingers from under the stack of papers until Siegfried tugs out a set of keys from somewhere in his armor. (Their fingers brush, and Gran hates that he’s fixating on it, stop it, it’s  _ fine. _ ) Gran spins on his heels the second the keys are in his hand and heads towards the stairwell.

  
  


He finds that, even if he’s a room away from him, Gran’s thoughts are filled with Siegfried. An hour had passed since he’d settled down, having changed into comfortable pajamas and laying back on the bed and trying to possibly sleep; he  _ was  _ tired, physically, as anyone would be after walking for six hours with several pounds of dragon meat in tow. But his mind, no, it wasn’t relenting one bit. Every time he thinks he’s about to doze, he just remembers last night, the feeling of Siegfried’s weight pressed against him, the feeling of Siegfried’s fingers against his hip, Siegfried’s breath against his neck, Siegfried’s hand palming his-

 

He sits up, launching himself out of the bed and moving to the small table that was in the room, where he’d unceremoniously dumped all of Siero’s paperwork. “Guess I should actually do this.” he mumbles to himself- maybe working himself to exhaustion would help. He pulls out the chair and gets to work.

 

\------------------------

 

Gran’s not sure what time it is, but he’s nearly finished the paperwork. So much for working himself to sleep; every time his thoughts drifted even slightly, he knew he’d be stuck in the same position he’d been trying to avoid. He leans back in his chair as he balances his pencil on his upper lip, trying to remember the last time they’d ordered elemental cores for Lowain, and just how many.

 

And then there’s a knock at the door, and Gran nearly tips over in his chair. “Yeah?” he calls, already fully aware of who it was, the only person who would bother him this late at night.

 

Siegfried opens the door slightly, peering in. “Just thought I’d see if everything’s alright.” he says, letting himself into the room as Gran sits back up, letting the pencil drop to the table. He doesn’t question it when Siegfried wanders over, tilting his head a little to look at the papers.

 

“Yeah- just. Work.” Gran says- and he’s surprised at how calm he’s being, considering the past few hours were working to conspire against him. “Usually Seruel helps out but since he’s been sick I’ve had to pick up the paperwork from Siero myself. And, uh…”

 

He trails off. Siegfried’s hand has slid over his shoulders, resting against the back of his neck as he leans down to look at some of the papers, curious. The calmness that Gran had felt dissipated and melted completely into a familiar pressure in his chest, goosebumps raising under Siegfried’s touch. “Looks complicated. I never was one for this kind of thing.” Siegfried says, eyes flicking over the paperwork before he lets out a small exhale, straightening up. 

 

His hand is still on Gran’s neck. “Yeah, it’s… Katalina helped a lot… Taught me a lot of stuff.” he mumbles dumbly, his head feeling like it was slowly being filled with water.

 

Siegfried laughs, so gently that it sounds like a sigh, and Gran’s jaw sets. “Well. I can’t help with this, but…”

 

Gran’s mouth is dry when Siegfried asks him- “Can I do  _ anything _ for you? Gran.” 

 

His eyes flicker- from Siegfried’s own golden eyes to his lips, back up, back down, finally averting, the familiar anxiety building up again in his body, curling like a python, constricting every part of him. “...I don’t,” he starts, before his eyes creep back towards Siegfried, far too aware of the fact that he has to tilt his head up just to make eye contact, unable to be subtle. “I don’t… know.” he finally says, his eyes barely able to focus on one part of the man’s features, wishing so, so desperately that Siegfried wasn’t  _ touching _ him, making it a thousand times worse.

 

“...Hmm.” Siegfried hums, and... Gran isn’t sure  _ what  _ he expected, but Siegfried leaning down, close enough for Gran to feel his breath against his lips, close enough that he can’t stop his eyes from crossing to try to keep focused on Siegfried’s own- it wasn’t this. At least, it wasn’t this until last night. Until this morning. Until this very second. 

 

“You still don’t know?” Siegfried asks.

 

Gran closes the gap before he can bring himself to respond.

 

It’s barely a minute before Siegfried manages to get Gran onto the bed, his mouth wandering from Gran’s mouth to his cheek, his chin, his neck, the corner of his jaw- Siegfried is attacking him, and Gran was not exactly well versed in how to respond. “S,  _ Siegfried _ ,” he breathes, breathing in a shuddering gasp as he feels the man’s teeth scrape against the skin of his collar, potentially on accident but unlikely. Gran never thought himself to be someone who  _ squirms, _ but he doesn’t know how else to get out the coiled energy that is seeping through his body like a poison, his hands gripping Siegfried’s shoulders like he was trying to steer him.

 

He fails miserably of course- Siegfried has a mind of his own, loyalty to his captain be damned; his mouth trails to Gran’s throat, sucking at the skin just under his chin, letting out a short laugh when he feels Gran swallow hard beneath his lips. “Go further,” Gran breathes, not even understanding what he wants himself- but Siegfried is a willing participant as always, one hand moving to Gran’s chest, deftly unbuttoning the front of his pajama shirt while still nipping at the corner of Gran’s jaw. 

 

This was absolutely unfair. How did he know how to unbutton his shirt with  _ one hand? _ Hell. Gran tries to focus, tries to think about what he wants, what he could ask Siegfried to do, but two of his buttons have come undone at this point and Siegfried’s calloused fingers are sliding down the gap in his shirt and roughly tugging the rest of the buttons open and oh fucking  _ hell-  _

  
“Come up here,” Gran demands in a trembling voice, and it’s the first time Siegfried pauses, just for an instant, before he listens, before he leans back up, watching as Gran tries to look as determined as possible before reaching up, fingers lacing into the older man’s hair, tugging him down. He can feel Siegfried smiling against his mouth,  _ asshole,  _ but his thoughts fly out the window when one of Siegfried’s canines hook onto Gran’s lip, tugging just enough that Gran lets out a small gasp; of which he takes advantage of immediately, his tongue slipping in, meeting Gran’s own, swallowing up his moan.

 

This was so, so different from last night, Gran vaguely thinks, all of his running thoughts on Siegfried from the past day being knocked out of commission by this, by how overwhelming Siegfried was, Siegfried’s taste, Siegfried’s hands, Siegfried’s  _ everything _ . Gran’s body reacts far too easily to the weight of the man on top of him, yearning for more, letting out a small whine when Siegfried breaks the kiss, his breathing far steadier than Gran’s own as he starts to trail his lips back down Gran.

 

It’s  _ agony _ watching Siegfried slowly creep down Gran’s body, his mouth kissing and sucking over what felt like every inch of his skin, every one of his scars; Gran appreciated the attention, sure, but the tension in his body was tightening even further than he could have anticipated, an obvious erection between the two of them as Gran feels jolts of arousal with each touch of Siegfried’s mouth. His fingers are still locked tight in Siegfried’s hair even as he moves, realizing that he barely even has to extend his arm to follow him- Siegfried really was just, enormous, wasn’t he, Gran muses, his hips twitching when Siegfried nips a particularly sensitive spot close to one of his fresher scars. This was torture. Gran’s fingers lace tighter into Siegfried’s hair.

 

...And then he tries to tug the man’s hair, trying to egg him on, to get him to move faster- but before Gran can even move his hand an inch, Siegfried’s hand snaps up, wrapping fully around Gran’s wrist. His blood runs cold as Siegfried peers up at him from where he’d been sucking the skin of Gran’s stomach, eyes seeming to glint in the fading lamplight. “ _ That _ ,” he breathes, and his breath against Gran’s skin makes him shudder, “Is no way to ask for something else, Gran.”

 

Gran feels, once again, that he’s being scolded- but he holds his ground this time, swallowing hard as he slowly releases his fingers from Siegfried’s hair, letting his hand rest limply in the man’s grip. (He didn’t even have to  _ try _ to reach around Gran’s entire wrist, his hand sizes larger than Gran’s own; he kept thinking back to the dragon, how Siegfried snapped the knuckles of it without even using force, and how hard he was squeezing Gran’s wrist, now.) 

 

Gran swallows hard. Siegfried still doesn’t let go.

 

“...do what you did last night,” Gran murmurs, watching as Siegfried’s brow raises, just a bit. “... _ Please. _ ”

 

Siegfried lets go of his wrist.

 

“We’ll see.” he says.

 

And the deep tone he uses, combined with the return of his lips trailing down Gran’s front, hand at his hips and thumbs looping over the sides of his pants, tugging them down slowly, makes Gran’s brain go haywire. Some part of him was setting off warning bells, but the sensation of Siegfried kissing down his pelvis made everything feel just a little duller. 

 

It’s understandable, then, when Gran realizes that Siegfried is  _ still _ moving further down, he stammers. “Wait- what are you doing,” he tries, but Siegfried happily ignores him, tugging down the remainder of Gran’s pants and scooting down just enough, enough that Gran can  _ feel _ Siegfried staring at his erection, something akin to anticipation hovering in the air between them. 

 

The first touch is the one that makes Gran let out a heady groan. He hadn’t realized that he had been craving the feeling of Siegfried’s rough fingers so desperately until just that moment, arching his hips up to meet him, shuddering breaths as Siegfried squeezes around him. His fingers unhook from Siegfried’s hair as he grips the sheets underneath him- he doesn’t know what to expect when he feels something else join Siegfried’s fingers against his cock, something _ soft, _ and Gran realizes that he’s pressing his lips to it. “You don’t, have to do-” he breathes, but his voice raises an octave or two when he’s interrupted by a hot, wet line being licked up his cock, Siegfried’s tongue sending bolts of electricity up his spine. This was decidedly  _ not _ what he did last night, but Gran couldn’t find it in himself to complain as Siegfried’s lips suck at the tip of his cock, his hand keeping Gran steady as he does so. 

 

Gran presses the heel of his palms against his eyes as Siegfried takes him fully into his throat without warning, feeling the man’s nose bury into the skin at the base of his cock, swallowing, sending waves of pleasure through Gran- this was, too much, Gran thinks, letting out a heavy exhale as Siegfried begins to drag his mouth off of Gran, starting a slow, languid cycle. “Fuck.” Gran hisses stupidly, his legs trembling underneath Siegfried’s hands as he continues, just barely moving his hand from his face and peering down.

 

Mistake. Bad. Stupid. Siegfried pauses when he hears Gran curse, using a hand to push his hair back before peering up at the boy, lips still locked around the tip of Gran’s cock and sucking. 

 

It’s all he can do to let out a small moan before he cums unceremoniously into Siegfried’s mouth, watching with hitching breaths as Siegfried actually  _ dips back down,  _ swallowing Gran down as his cock pulses in his mouth, swallowing every drop he could manage. 

 

A moment passes.

 

“...Didn’t have t’swallow,” Gran finally gets out, his legs feeling like slime when Siegfried finally comes back up, his fingers running up over Gran’s side gently, counting each of Gran’s ribs as he does so. 

 

“Maybe not.” Siegfried hums, bringing his mouth (that  _ fucking _ mouth,) to Gran’s jaw, kissing it, smirking when Gran easily turns his head, giving him access. He was exhausted. Whatever Siegfried wanted to do, whatever. It was fine. This was fine. Gran can’t keep focused, one of his hands falling to the bed for a second before reaching it back up, running his fingers through Siegfried’s hair, eliciting a low, rumbling hum from the other man. 

 

Gran swallows hard, turning his head to look at Siegfried, face hot. “Stay here. We don’t- don’t get two rooms anymore,” he says, determination burning in his eyes. Siegfried blinks, looking mildly surprised, before he breathes a laugh, leaning in to press his nose to Gran’s cheek. 

 

“Mmmn. Okay. I was wondering why you were sulking when I told you.” he says, and Gran lets out a huff, frowning. He didn’t  _ sulk,  _ thanks, but any tension he had been feeling about it had melted away when Siegfried agreed. They could talk about… whatever  _ this _ was, later, but for now, Gran rolls himself over, pressing himself up against Siegfried, smiling to himself when Siegfried hesitantly wraps his arms around him in return.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gran wakes up at like 2 am and realizes he never got to jerk seigfried off but siegfried's already like. bear cling around him so hes not gonna even try to wake him up to be indignant
> 
> anyway thx for reading i hope gran being a baby virgin and cumming too early isnt too boring i love premature ejaculation so its a moe point in my eyes


End file.
